Unbelievable Chinese Massage Girl

Well, I haven’t written for a while because life has been boring. I had been working at a new massage parlor to get it going, and very busy with normal customers. I am sometimes asked to fly into a city and work a new massage parlor because I am hot and a pro. The owners know they can place me and I will be a pleaser: a hottie that customers will tell others about to bring more business, and a pro who can pick up on the nuances of unfamiliar customers. I’m also someone who will make herself scarce after the reputation is set, never to acknowledge having been there before. I command a steep price for my services, but it’s a one-time deal. Pay me up front, and I work to establish the place for the first month. In cities I know well (NY, LA, etc) it is boring.

Today, however, I have a story to tell. An amazing story. You won’t believe it, but I don’t care. Leave a comment please.

Yesterday I completed my contract at the new asian massage parlor in LA. I did a GREAT job as token blonde Amerasian beauty, to rave reviews. Today I visited a friend’s parlor outside (redacted cityname) which I now know is a bottom of the barrel Chinese hand job factory. Wow. I have been away from this filth for too long. I can barely stomach it.

Anyway the story comes in this not very young Chinese lady I met today, who is an “old pro” according to my friend, the owner. This lady has very young skin and a young-looking face, but she’s almost 50 years old. She’s very petite and her fast-moving, high-energy, tight body fools the American guys. As she buzzes around with her high-pitched voice and smarty pants broken Engrish, they come to believe she is young and hot. The owner was right - she is a pro. She can work a customer like few I have witnessed. They leave happy - thrilled even - despite the entire visit lasting but 20 minutes from initial payment to door closing “c-ya-honey”. This lady is a massage parlor queen and a hand job machine, but with a secret.

I was visitng to check things out for my friend, and because she wanted to show me this “lady” who was a profit machine. I wish we had not witnessed it before dinner.

This little Chinese lady wears one of those crew neck rash guard shirts, like competitive swimmers and river rafters wear. It’s like a compression shirt you might wear to the gym, dark polyester and and clings tight to her body. But it is also waterproof, or at least it doesn’t show moisture from sweat. The neckline is tight-fitting to her neck, like a low turtle neck would be. She runs around hard and under her clothes she gets all sweaty but that shirt stays smart and dry… at at least that is what she explained to me. She loves her shirt, and has three of them. “Bewwy exprensive!” she tells me, “but worf it”.

She is strictly a hand job massager, so the shirt never comes off, although the thinness of the polyester and her her tight torso probably make for some fun groping for the guys. She looks like half way to an A cup but her nipples were obviously large. I later learned that it is actually a one piece body suit she wears. The shirt we see continues down around the crotch, much like a dance leotard. I wish I could remove the mental images I now have from when she showed it to me…. but that part of the story is coming.

So anyways as I get to know this lady through the day she starts to feel confident and try to impress me with her methods… which are truly unique. She moves the guys into the room, holds their crotch through the pants while setting terms and taking money, and leaves them with explicit orders to “undress and get hard - don’t waste time, I give you fun. Don’t make me mad”. She says she returns to hard customers almost every time, and I didn’t ask what she does if they need more foreplay than her commands provide. She is so intent on speed and efficiency I would not be surprised if she had a vacuum cleaner attachment for those who need more than 10 seconds to rise to the occasion.

Once the stage is set, she goes to work with her allegedly legendary hand and mouth skills, to produce the edge of release within as few minutes as possible. It is here that we get wierd. By the end of my time in that massage parlor I learned that, at the time of release, this little Chinese massage firecracker pulls down on her crew neck and aims the customer’s weapon at the nape of her old-looking-now-that-I-pay-attention neck. The shape of her neck as she strains her head upwards (to protect the eyes, I suppose) creates a river gulley down her shirt, further exposed by her pulling the neckline away a bit while she aims his thang. A powerful release smacks against her neck, before flowing down under her shirt. A less-powerful ejaculation simply pulses onto the skin under her chin, again flowing down the valley under her shirt, disappearing to god knows where (and sadly, so do I now that she showed me). Since the shirt is waterproof and dark, nothing shows after her body has consumed the human waste. She is basically flat chested but her small mounds and nipples define a pathway for that goopy stuff, and the tight shirt keeps it all pressed against her skin and out of view. In short, her chest (and then..?) act as a sewer for her customer’s man juices. No need for towels or mess, she takes it all down her shirt and wipes the drops off on the inside of the neckline. When she showed me this part of her procedure, she snapped the neckline back into place against her body, and I imagined a splatter of white droplets flying around the room. No, she assures me, there is no mess. She patted her chest and I think I heard the tympany of a wet swimmer patting her swimsuited chest. Too slappy to be dry, although it looks dry from afar. No, I didn’t feel it.

“Ewww..” I said, and she looked at me sternly. “No ew. Very clean. Everything under control. Even today — busy day — everything okay“. She patted her pussy as she said “everything ok” and something clicked in my head.

Oh sure it shoots down her neck and under her shirt, but exactly where does it all end up? And what exactly is a busy day? EWWWWWW!

Yes, folks, she did proceed to show me just what a busy day means, and just what that soft bulge between her legs was that she had patted. This lady dropped her shorts and showed me a body suit bottom full of the juices of her day’s customers, held inside by the waterproof fit of her body suit. Her pussy was submerged in slime, and her underbelly was bloated like a pre-period 35 year old, even though her actual belly was tight as a washboard. She walked around the massage parlor all day in what was basically a dry suit designed to keep moisture inside. She had dumped what looked like over a pint of fluids in there, and swam around in it all day.

I continued with my insistance that this was way gross, as she moved to the shower and turned on the water, still yapping to my friend and I that she was very clean and everything was very controlled. I figured she’d step right in wearing what was bascially a reverse bathing suit, and start cleaning up in the running water but instead she turned around and pulled the suit  down around her waiste. Yes, she was basically flat and had probably raised a toddler or two based on her large, well-used nipples. Her skin was amazingly young looking, although it was obviously slimed. It looked as though she had coated herself with Aloe after a sunburn, sans the sunburn.

She then lowered the fabric down below her belly button (yes, she was human) and stopped to show me a pool of clear liquid. Her vagina was underwater in several inches of clear liquid, of the consistency of glycerine. I could see her pubic hairs soaked and clumpy, and the body suit had failed to contain this amount of fluid 100% because I saw a few moits spots on the outside but it was amazing it had held so much for so long, through so much activity, and had not leaked.

As she her body suit further the slow motion flow of slime over the edge and down to the floor was unmistakable… not that I held out this was not the up-to-12-hour-aged semen that it most certainly had to be, but the clearness of the liquid had thrown me off. What goes down her neck as clumpy white goop ends up as a pool of smooth thick clear slime in which her ass and vagina sit for the rest of the day. I had to see if she had some sort of rubber micro panties or a female condom or something protecting her uterus, so I looked closely and encouraged her to pull her pants all the way down. Nothing. An open, soaked pussy that would pop the cork for Bukkake and creampie fans the world over. Sitting in a pint or two of semen all day long, to be repeated day after day. Yes, indeed, this had been a busy day in the massage parlor. And yes, she had an amazingly youthful looking kitty, despite the almost unbearable smell of fermenting spunk and the unforgettable visual proof of unhealthy, repeated violation in a biological sense.

Funny to think this lady insists she is “hand job only”.

So boys and girls there you have my story for today. I’m still sick of the image of her pulling down the fabric to show me her daily productivity tally, with her wirey hairs glued to her belly and her little clit pointing proudly at me, and that river of slime flowing forward out of her pants to the shower floor in front of me.
Never before.. never saw anything so strange, and hopefully never will again.

Guys, you simply can’t make this stuff up.